Annabel Lee
by Tehri
Summary: Arthur and Alfred often spend time together, and more often than one would expect, they read to each other. However, Alfred has never read any of Poe's work to his lover before. / T-rating is random...


**Random searches on Google made me find these two poems, and it somehow morphed into this drabble. xD Anyway. The first poem is _Lenore_ by Edgar Allan Poe, and the second is _Annabel Lee_ by the very same man. **

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Arthur hummed quietly to himself, leaning back against the pillows with a noise of content. They didn't do things like this that often, since they normally didn't have that much time. But now, since their bosses apparently thought that they deserved a small vacation, Arthur was currently lying on a mattress on the floor in Alfred's living room, a book in his hands and a cup of tea just next to him on the floor. Incredibly comfortable; and it was about to get better, since Alfred was currently only out in the kitchen to make himself some hot chocolate.

"Did you drown yourself in the sink, or are you coming back soon," he called with a slight smirk, not once looking away from his book. "Should I come and help you?"

Alfred lifted an eyebrow as he stepped back into the room, carrying a large mug with the usual flag-print.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," he replied. "The chocolate's good, if you were wondering."

He chuckled as the Brit rolled his eyes; it was only the normal teasing that occurred whenever they arranged something like this. They couldn't hold it back, it just happened. But as soon as Alfred settled down and slipped in under the covers, Arthur moved closer and leaned against him. Warm and comfortable, especially when the American put an arm around his lover with a chuckle and grabbed the book he had brought with him down earlier. People didn't often see Alfred read, but it was nice at times. Especially at times like these. They both wanted to relax, without much noise. Reading was just a simple but enjoyable activity.

With a quiet sigh, Arthur put away his book and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of his lover's heartbeats. Soon, a gentle humming joined with the rhythmic noise. But just as Arthur had begun to relax and drift away to sleep, Alfred spoke; the words he used alerted the Englishman to that the blue-eyed man was reading aloud from the book.

"_Ah, broken is the golden bowl! The spirit flown forever!_

_Let the bell toll! - A saintly soul floats down the Stygian river_

_And, Guy De Vere, hast thou no tear? - Weep now or never more!_

_See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!_

_Come! let the burial rite be read, the funeral song be sung!_

_An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young -_

_A dirge for her, the doubly dead in that she died so young._"

Slowly, the Brit's eyes fluttered open again, and he gazed at the American. Alfred glanced at him with a warm smile and pointed to the page he was reading from before continuing.

"'_Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride,_

_And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her - that she died!_

_How shall the ritual, then, be read? - the requiem how be sung_

_By you - by yours, the evil eye, - by yours, the slanderous tongue_

_That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?'_"

Arthur smiled and pecked the younger man's cheek before turning his gaze to the next part. He recognised the poem very well, despite the poet being an American (the man was famous all over the world nowadays, one had to remember that). Slowly finding the rhythm, he took over and read the two last parts, noticing from the corner of his eye that Alfred watched him intently.

"_Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song_

_Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong!_

_The sweet Lenore hath 'gone before', with Hope, that flew beside,_

_Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride -_

_For her, the fair and debonnaire, that now so lowly lies,_

_The life upon her yellow hair, but not within her eyes -_

_The life still there, upon her hair - the death upon her eyes._

_Avaunt! tonight my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise,_

_But waft the angel on her flight with paean of old days!_

_Let no bell toll! - lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth,_

_Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damned Earth._

_To friends above, from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven -_

_From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven -_

_From grief and groan to a golden throne beside the King of Heaven._"

With a low sigh, Alfred kissed Arthur's forehead.

"I love your voice," he murmured. "It's beautiful, you know..."

Arthur chuckled and poked at the book.

"I never knew that you liked to read Poe's works," he replied. "Or that you ever even read poetry..."

The American's reply was a shrug and a low chuckle; after having known the git for so long, the older man had managed to figure out what this normally meant. "I'm full of surprises". So with a slight smirk, he poked at the book once more.

"Come now," he coaxed. "Read something. You always make me tell you a story or read something, now it's your turn."

"Uhm... The Raven?"

"Too common, I've heard it so many times...

Alfred flipped through the pages, frowning as he looked for something good. Suddenly, he got an idea, and with a smirk he flipped back a few pages and tilted the book so that Arthur couldn't see which one he had chosen. And with an utterly calm voice, he began to read, easily finding the familiar rhythm.

"_It was many a year ago,_

_In a kingdom by the sea,_

_That a maiden there lived whom you may know_

_By the name of Annabel Lee;_

_And this maiden she lived with no other thought_

_Than to love and be loved by me._

_I was a child and she was a child,_

_In this kingdom by the sea:_

_But we loved with a love that was more than love -_

_I and my Annabel Lee;_

_With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven_

_Coveted her and me._"

He glanced at his lover with a warm smile, seeing how those emerald orbs watched every single movement of his lips as he continued.

"_And this was the reason that, long ago,_

_In this kingdom by the sea,_

_A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling_

_My beautiful Annabel Lee;_

_So that her high-born kinsmen came_

_And bore her away from me,_

_To shut her up in a sepulchre,_

_In this kingdom by the sea._

_The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,_

_Went envying her and me -_

_Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,_

_In this kingdom by the sea)_

_That the wind came out of the cloud one night,_

_Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee._"

A weak and sad smile formed on the older man's lips as he listened; he had heard stories like this one before, but that didn't mean that he'd ever stop finding them strangely beautiful. Alfred's voice grew softer, but somehow more confident.

"_But our love it was stronger by far than the love_

_Of those who were older than we -_

_Of many far wiser than we -_

_And neither the angels in Heaven above,_

_Nor the demons down under the sea,_

_Can ever dissever my soul from the soul_

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

_For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams_

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

_And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes_

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

_And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side_

_Of my darling - my darling - my life and my bride,_

_In the sepulchre there by the sea -_

_In her tomb by the sounding sea..._"

As soon as Alfred stopped reading, Arthur grabbed the book, closed it and put it down on the floor next to the mattress. And before the lad even had a chance to ask him what he was doing, he had straddled the boy's hips and leant closer until the tips of their noses were touching.

"You need to read poetry to me more often," he whispered with a smile. "I think you'll find that I rather like it."

Alfred chuckled and trailed his fingers through the messy sandy blonde hair, his blue eyes twinkling slightly.

"If you'd like," he replied. "My Annabel Lee..."

Arthur swatted half-heartedly at him, but smiled warmly and closed the distance between them, letting their lips meet in a gentle kiss. Somehow, he didn't mind being called that. At least not now.

"Be careful," he teased, "or the jealous Heaven will take me away."

Alfred laughed and pulled him down for another kiss.

"As if I'd let them steal my beautiful England," he whispered.

_My beautiful Annabel Lee...  
_

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_**Strange, maybe, but I could just see Alfred reading those to Iggy. ^^ Reviews are loved!**_  
_


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